Chapter 9

"Let's see your tongue now…c'mon girl," Dr. Ralph Smith had just arrived at the Patch of Heaven farm a few days earlier to check up on Grace. He had a long pointed nose, a thick bushy light grey mustache, round beady eyes, and a minimal amount of hair below his head with a bald spot on top, and wore a dark grey pinstriped suit. Grace rolled out her slender tongue for him to see.

"Hmmm, not a single sign of redness," he murmured, using a stick to hold down her tongue while he examined her throat with his eyeglass. Minimal amounts of sweat started pouring down her head from the pressure of having to hold completely still for nearly long seconds. Even her mouth had been drying up.

"Nope, nothin' in there," he replied, releasing her tongue. Next he checked her ears, eyes, and then leaned his head against her chest to listen to her heart. Just a regular normal thump, nothing unusual seemed to happen as he leaned closer for a better hearing. For the last part he stroked her hide to find any sort of injuries that may somehow be connected to her sudden outburst. Not a single scratch of freshness, but he thought he spotted at least one slightly odd scratch below her nape, a couple between her shoulder muscles, and more on her back.

"Hmmm now this is somethin' I ain't never seen everyday," he muttered suspiciously.

When he was done with her, he stepped out of the den to tell Pearl about what he might've known so far. Grace returned to lying down on the pile of hay to try and rest a bit. But it was so difficult for her because of all the memories that have now been haunting her mind since the night of that terrible dream. Despite being away from those cretins, she couldn't help having the feeling that someday, she may be taken apart from her family and back in the hands of cruel men once more.

"So how did it go, feelin' any better?" Maggie had entered the den a moment later to see how Grace had been doing. The pretty blond raised her head slowly, but did not turn her head. She just kept her sad eyes on the wall, not knowing which the right words to let out were.

Maggie gave a frustrated sigh. This was more difficult than she thought it would be. To think that anything so horrible would happen to a sweet gal like Grace. She couldn't really blame her, but even she sometimes didn't know the right words to say. "You know, lyin' there feelin' sorry for yourself ain't gonna make things better. You're missin' all the fun out here." Again Grace said nothing as she just laid her head down on the soft hay. Before Maggie could say anything else, Mrs. Calloway walked past her unexpectedly.

"Maggie here does have a point; ever since that night, you've hardly eaten anything, you don't help poor Pearl out like you use to, you've refused to step one foot outside, everyone is already worried about you dear. What else is there that you're not telling us?" Up until now, Mrs. Calloway had been both worried and concerned about her silent behavior and had just had it up to here with it. But that didn't mean that she wouldn't allow the heifer to mourn at all. The Grace she knew was a happy and peace-loving sweetie who not only carried a terrible tone in her so-called singing voice, but had helped her and Maggie save their home from the greedy hands of Alameda Slim. But could it be that she had now forgotten about how she saved them from his hypnotic yodeling and how she kicked the bell straight into his mouth? There had to be a way to raise her spirits up again.

"They found me and then…then…hurt me," Those were the only words to come out of Grace before she started to sob softly instead of hysterically.

Mrs. Calloway herself was not much of an expert at dealing with emotional issues such as this one, but sat by her side rubbing her back slowly with her hoof. Maggie tried to tell everyone outside that Grace still needed more time alone, before she closed the doors.

Outside

After a while, hardly anybody felt like doing much of anything cheerful today. It just didn't seem right to do so while Grace was in a state of depression. As they all moved further away from the barn walking slowly, the ones who stayed behind were Ollie and Audrey. The two of them wanted to hear more of what else had happened to Grace. But to make sure nobody saw them, they moved to the back of the den enough to keep out of sight.

The Dr. Smith had a long talk with Pearl outside of her house.

"So how is she?"

"Well her throat is clear, her eyes are pink but not too serious, heart rate is at a normal pace, and she's in good health as far as I know. But in what other way has she been reacting recently?"

"Well just the other day, she just sorta went haywire as if someone…or somethin' were tryin' to hurt her severely. Is there anything else I should know, what else did you find?"

"When I examined her hide, I thought I saw what appeared to be scars," he replied, scratching under his left eyelid.

Pearl was stunned. "What do you mean scars?"

"I mean that it may be possible that someone may have mistreated her at an earlier age and somehow…she started to remember it. How long have you had her by the way?"

"Ten to fifteen months I believe," Pearl answered with her arms crossed.

"I'm only a doctor, but from what I know, cattle that have been through traumatic experiences can sometimes act aggressive and may feel threatened when provoked. So if she starts actin' stressful in any way again, be aware o' your location and try not to get in between her and a wall or gate. And if anything else should happen, just let us know." He finished packing his bag then turned to head out the front gate from where the sign labeled Patch of Heaven hanged from above.

"Oh and another thing…" Dr. Smith called out to Pearl before she headed inside the house. "…give her a few spoonfuls of sulfur and molasses. It'll bring the redness from her eyes down."

Pearl waved back to him as a sign of thanks then went into the house to see if she had any of that substance.

Somewhere in the canyons

It would seem like hours have passed since the rider had swiped the calf from the sheriff's house and was now heading his way to what appeared to be an old abandoned mansion, surrounded by a few acres of tall trees. The rest of the gang had been awaiting his return, standing in front of the doorway with a familiar drunkard leaning against the pole.

Stepping off his black steed, he dragged the unconscious calf off his saddlebow and carried it over his shoulder to the gang.

"Ain't this the same cow that had been trespassin' on our property," the rider humbly asked the drunkard.

"Yep, she's the one," the rider handed her over to him. The drunkard glared at the calf he held in his muscular arms, with a menacing smirk on his face.

"She'll be sorry when she wakes up," he whispered, carrying her inside. The gang just shrugged their shoulders and followed behind him.

Later that night, inside the mansion

Grace fluttered her eyes nervously. The last thing she remembered was hanging over the saddle of a horse, then being knocked out cold. Her head still hurt quite a bit from that blow. As she regained consciousness along with her vision, she found that she was in a completely different room engulfed in darkness with the chirping of crickets outside.

"Hello…Sampson, Sampson…are you here?" No answer. All she heard was the rustling of leaves being blown by the dusty wind.

This didn't look like the sheriff's home or Lewis's place. No, the wooden floor had bents and cracks with nails improperly hammered at a few curves of the boards. The ceiling was a bit cracked as well, but not nearly as half-damaged as the floor. Cobwebs hung and littered from above at the edge of the walls and the dusty old furniture.

"I better find Sampson and get on outta here," Grace whispered to herself, rising up to leave. But something was holding her back. Once again she tugged, but still couldn't move. She found herself tied and restrained in a tightening painful leather halter to a pole. Despite the aging of this mansion, the pole still stood strong enough to keep from falling. She tugged harder and harder, but could not pull free. Her face tinged and ache with pain. Where was she anyway?

"Awake already aren't yah?" a rough voice startled her from behind. She turned around swiftly and came face to face with Tuck! An evil smirk crossed his jaw as his eyes locked onto her shuddering position.

"Wh…where…am I?" was all Grace could stutter nervously.

"Well let me tell you that we're miles away outta town, fleein' from the law now on our heels, with my masters out searchin' for food and other supplies with me guardin' you to make sure you ain't goin' nowhere tonight." The Doberman let out a furious snarl of anger with Grace struggling to back away from him while still tied up to the pole. "Because o' you, my masters had to break old Lewis outta jail before he would be forced to reveal our hidin' place. It's too dangerous to go back there now; any day they might come lookin' for us here, with you!" Grace dodged Tuck as he swiped at her. "Oh and do you know what else happened?"

Grace shook her head.

"Old Lewis nearly blew his casket while behind the bars you put him in. He said he'll be ready for yah with a big surprise, when he gets back."

The calves eyes widened and she gasped. "NO, I don't want to!" Once more, she tugged at the halter violently.

"Look here boys, seems the calf has finally awakened from her peaceful nap!" The Yeller Gang had just arrived back from their hunt out in the wilderness. What they dragged in looked to be like a deer or bison. Lewis strolled in with an armful of sausages, coffee bags, biscuits, and can of beans he bought from a nearby town. Of course, no one suspected anything as they entered there, because they just acted like any normal traveler would do. They would need that stuff for the next few days in traveling to an area out of state.

Setting the items down on an old table near the ash-dusted fireplace, he marched toward Grace with the floor creaking after every step he took.

"Over here Tuck!" The gang leader snapped his fingers to get his dogs attention. Tuck moved out of Lewis's way and went over to where his masters were preparing an excellent meal. His mouth watered and drooled with hunger. He was handed a thick piece of some of the juicy tendered sausage.

Lewis stared down at the tied up calf with his fists curled up tightly in a rage. Growling under his breath, his right hand reached for the end of the halter untying it, then pulling Grace roughly closer to where he stood. Grace, now terrified by what she saw on her "owner's" face, struggled to pull back. Yet his grip was far too powerful for her to resist as he succeeded in pulling her closer. Getting down on one knee, he seized Grace by the halter and swung her over his left arm.

"Stupid mangy bovine!" he hollered furiously as he began to lunge her back repeatedly with his right hand. "I spent two days in a jail cell for some false crime while you were out getting' away with enjoyin' yourself!" He kept hitting her back severely as he continued ranting and raving about how he had been sitting miserably in solitary confinement. Grace didn't dare make a sound or even attempt to escape his grip as he kept striking her painfully. Her eyes were watering after every blow. Not as bad as when he whipped her, but still it stung like fire.

Moments later, it was over. Taking the end of the halter, he tied it back to the pole and gave one last glance at the calf that stood panting heavily with her tongue hanging loose. Grace didn't notice his hand swipe down and thwack her across the cheek which also stung like fire. Lewis said and did nothing more as he went over to join the gang around the fireplace for an evening meal.

Feeling as if she had been crushed in spirit and having no more strength left, Grace collapsed on the floor and broke into a few sobs. Her own reward for attempting to flee from her "owner" was a painful hit on her back and a hard stinging blow across her cheek. This is what Tuck meant when he mentioned that Lewis had a big surprise for her. The outlaws were too busy enjoying their meal and talking to even notice or hear her sobbing in the corner. Maybe if she hadn't run away into town, none of this would have happened. Would she ever be able to escape out of this mess?